


Sydney

by roonerspism



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-19
Updated: 2010-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-13 19:09:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/140681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roonerspism/pseuds/roonerspism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While flying the body of a dead Australian back home to Sydney, Douglas reveals something about new charter airline BudJet Airways that sets Martin on edge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sydney

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tibby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tibby/gifts).



> A couple of things. First, I took the liberty of placing the MJN terminal in a larger airport, though I’m not sure how exactly charter services work. Secondly, I found out shortly after starting this that they are apparently doing Sydney in series three. But I liked it, so I kept it. It has little to no impact on the story anyway. And lastly, Cabin Pressure is funny. This is probably not.

“See mum, I told you we’d get the job!” Arthur bounded along, excited air fizzing about him.

Walking beside him, Carolyn nodded exasperatedly. “Yes, yes, very good. You’re a genius. Now come on, before the wife changes her mind.”

The pair made their way through the airport, Carolyn strategically avoiding the duty free, to the MJN Air terminal. Waiting for them there was a woman, about thirty years old. She looked somewhat distressed, and was shuffling from foot to foot, arms folded in front of her.

Carolyn turned to Arthur. “Right. Now this is important. I want you to go over there and secure the deal. If she complains about the price, do whatever you can to keep her on side. We’re late already and she doesn’t look happy.”

Arthur beamed in response. Carolyn sighed as he approached the woman.

“Hello!” he started, brightly. “Mrs Knight? Welcome to MJN Air to you today madam. My name is Arthur Shappey. For your convenience I’ll be your steward on board your flight this evening. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Um, yes,” the woman replied. “That’s nice. Now you assured me that you could do this cheaper than BudJet Airways. But their manager just called me and said they would fly us for one hundred pounds less than you’re charging.”

“Ah,” said Arthur. “Right…” he turned back to Carolyn. “Mum. She’s saying they’ll do it for one hundred quid less than us. What do I do?”

“Whatever it takes.”

“Yes. Okay,” Arthur said. “You can take our original price and halve it.”

Carolyn jumped five feet into the air. “No! Don’t halve it!” She hurried over to Arthur, pushing him aside with her elbow. “Stupid child,” she muttered. Then, “Mrs Knight. Hello. Carolyn Knapp-Shappey, owner, MJN Air. I understand BudJet are offering you a cheaper fare? Well we would like to knock five percent off their asking price. Does that sound reasonable?”

Mrs Knight studied Carolyn’s face, then Arthur’s, and wrinkled her nose. “Yes, alright,” she said at length.

“Wonderful,” said Carolyn. “I can assure you that you won’t regret it.”

Mrs Knight eyed Arthur again. “I sincerely hope not,” she said.

*

Four hours into the flight, and Arthur was excited as ever.

“I can’t believe we’re flying a dead body,” he said for possibly the tenth time. He sounded truly amazed at the prospect.

“We have flown a dead person before,” Martin reminded him, matter-of-factly.

“Yes Skip, but he didn’t die ‘til after the plane took off. And this time we get to go to Australia!”

Carolyn suddenly appeared on the flight deck. “Oh, I can’t stand another second in that woman’s company. She keeps harping on about BudJet Airways. And if it’s not that, it’s how her husband wouldn’t have approved of the breakfast, or the layout of the seats, or the in-flight entertainment…”

“It could be worse,” Douglas piped up. “Why don’t you offer her a game of charades with Arthur? I’m sure that’ll cheer her right up.”

“I can’t say I’m not tempted,” Carolyn replied. “But I don’t think anyone deserves that - Arthur, for God’s sake, what is it?”

Arthur, who was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet and looking about ready to burst, blurted out, “Pictionary!”

“As _lovely_ as that sounds, Arthur, your two esteemed pilots are busy flying a plane to Sydney, and don’t really have the time for party games,” said Douglas.

“No silly, I mean I could play with Mrs Knight. Everybody loves Pictionary.”

“Do they now?” Douglas asked smarmily.

“Yeah! Me and Skipper played it once, it was great. Wasn’t it Skip?”

Everyone turned to Martin, who suddenly looked trapped.

“Uh, yes. I suppose it was. Maybe. Sort of.” He kept his attention fully focussed out the window, and ignored the incredulous and amused looks from Carolyn and Douglas.

“See, Pictionary’s great! I’m going to go and ask Mrs Knight if she wants to play.” With that, Arthur scurried off into the cabin to entertain their passenger.

“Honestly, that boy…” Carolyn trailed off, shaking her head.

“So what is our dear passenger saying about BudJet Airways to so upset you?” asked Douglas.

“Oh,” Carolyn said, “the usual. They’re new, so they must be nicer. They’re more professional. Their stewards don’t perform shadow puppet theatre during meal times.”

“You mean she didn’t like Arthur’s rendition of A Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

Martin snorted, and Douglas looked rather pleased with himself.

“At any rate, we were lucky to get this job. BudJet have the capacity to ruin us, so from now on we’ll have to fight tooth and nail for every charter. I hope you two understand the seriousness of this situation,” Carolyn finished.

“Oh come on now, is it really as bad as all that?” Douglas asked, tone settled somewhere between mildly indifferent and totally uninterested.

“They want to buy Gertie, for Heaven’s sake!” Carolyn cried. “Of course it’s bad. I would have thought you might show a little more concern for your job.”

Douglas shrugged. Carolyn threw her shoulders up around her ears in defeat. “Okay, I’d better go and rescue Mrs Knight from Arthur. Call me if there are any problems.”

With that, Carolyn vanished, leaving Martin and Douglas alone. Straight away Martin took the opportunity to ask Douglas why he was seemingly unconcerned.

“So,” he started. “You certainly don’t seem bothered about BudJet buying us out.”

“Why should I be?” Douglas asked, almost surprised.

“You might lose your job!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be worried about that. Well, I mean if I was you I might be. But me, no. See, I have job security.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ah,” Douglas said, pausing for effect. “Now that’s interesting.”

“Douglas!”

“They’ve offered me a job.” He paused again. “As Captain.”

“What?!” Martin yelped. “I mean… sorry?” His face had quickly turned an alarming shade of pink.

“You’re not… _upset_ are you?” asked Douglas, smirking just slightly.

“Not in the slightest,” Martin sniffed, refusing to look in Douglas’ direction.

They sat in silence for a while, Martin’s flushed cheeks slowly returning to their normal, much paler complexion. After a time, he grew tired of the somewhat uncomfortable quiet, and suggested a game.

“Douglas?”

“Mmm?”

“Words that sound filthy but aren’t.”

“Oh, _yes_ ,” Douglas enthused.

“Whoever gets the most by the time Carolyn sends the cheese tray wins.”

“Right. Penalise.”

Martin smiled. He had chosen a fit distraction indeed. “Coccyx.”

They played on for a time, all thoughts of Douglas’ job offer pushed to one side. However, as soon as an opportunity presented itself, in this case Douglas excusing himself for the bathroom, Martin sat-conned Carolyn to the flight deck.

“You called?” she asked.

“Yes. Yes I did.”

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of my dear captain’s company?”

Martin ignored the mocking tone in Carolyn’s voice, and went on to say, “Look. Douglas has informed me that BudJet Airways have offered him a job as Captain.” Carolyn raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Martin continued. “I know this will sound highly irregular, and you will most likely mock me mercilessly for saying it, but I don’t want Douglas to leave.”

For a short time Carolyn stood in thoughtful silence. “I see,” she said eventually. Nothing else followed.

Martin quickly grew frustrated. “Well?”

“Well,” Carolyn replied, offering nought.

“ _Well_ , aren’t you going to do something about it?”

“And what exactly would you like me to do?”

“I don’t know!” Martin cried, verging on hysterical. “Convince him to stay! I… Offer him a pay rise!”

“You want me to give Douglas more money for doing exactly the same job as he’s already doing?” Carolyn asked incredulously. “Somehow that doesn’t strike me as the brilliant idea I’m sure you think it is.”

“You have to. He’ll definitely stay at MJN if you do. Think about it. You pay me nothing. So give him part of what would have been my salary. It’ll be like you’re paying one and a half pilots. So you’ll still be ahead.”

Carolyn looked at Martin curiously. But before she could say anything in response, Douglas re-entered the flight deck. He cocked his head at them, obviously wondering what was going on.

 ****

“Cumquat!” Martin shouted suddenly.

“I _beg_ your _pardon_?” Carolyn said, both eyebrows shooting towards her hairline.

It was enough, however, to bring Douglas away from the suspicious looking scene before him. “Very good,” he said, nodding his approval.

Carolyn still looked confused.

“Words that sound filthy but aren’t,” Douglas supplied.

“Ah,” she said. “How about… masticate?”

“Good one Carolyn,” Martin affirmed, over zealously, hoping to get her on side. She looked at him blankly, and he smiled somewhat maniacally back at her.

Carolyn sighed softly. “Douglas, a word.” She motioned back towards the cabin. Douglas left his seat and dutifully followed her out of Martin’s view.

“I’ve just been talking to Martin,” Carolyn began.

“That’s funny,” Douglas interrupted. “So have I.”

“Yes, lovely. He told me that BudJet offered you a job.”

“As Captain,” Douglas confirmed in the voice he usually reserved for lording things over Martin.

“I’d like to offer you a pay rise, if you’ll stay on as First Officer at MJN,” Carolyn said.

Douglas actually looked mildly taken aback. He quickly recovered however, and said, in a rare moment of sincerity, “That’s a generous offer Carolyn, I’m sure. But I have no intention of leaving.”

“That’s a relief,” Carolyn replied, “because I had no intention of paying you more.”

“This might be a stupid question,” Douglas began, “but in that case, why bother offering at all?”

“Oh, that was just to appease Martin. He seems strangely insistent that you stick around.”

Douglas’ expression changed to one of faint pleasure, but he didn’t respond to the revelation in any other way.

Meanwhile, on the flight deck, Martin was in conversation with Arthur.

“So basically,” Martin was saying, “I want to convince Douglas to stay at MJN instead of swanning off to be Captain at BudJet.”

Arthur titled his head to one side, much like a curious puppy. “Douglas is brilliant, obviously, but you two never seemed very close. Why do you care so much?”

 ****

Martin sighed forcefully. “Do you remember that conversation we had on the flight to Hong Kong last year? The one where I told you a rather big secret?”

Immediately, Arthur became confused. “What, the one about how you sometimes put on women’s clothes?”

“What? No! Oh God, you haven’t told anybody about that have you?” Martin asked desperately.

“No,” Arthur assured him. “I’m really good at keeping secrets.”

“Yes, but you’re not very good at lying.”

“Maybe not. But it’s not something that tends to come up in normal conversation. ‘Hello.’ ‘Hi. Does Martin have any deep dark secrets?’ Doesn’t happen very often.”

“No, I suppose you’re right. Although I wouldn’t put it past Douglas. But that’s not the point. That wasn’t the secret I was talking about,” Martin told him.

“Oh,” said Arthur. “What was it then?”

“It was the secret… the secret of how I… how I feel about Douglas.”

There was a silence in which the air thrummed with anticipation while Arthur thought about this statement. Suddenly, he seemed to understand.

“Wow Skip! I’d forgotten.”

“Yes, well what do you think I should do?”

Arthur looked thoughtful. “From my course on understanding people I learned that sometimes the best way to get what you want is to just say how you feel.”

Martin’s face flushed and he floundered, mouth opening and closing like a fish. He was just composing himself enough to say “I can’t do that!” when Douglas re-entered the flight deck.

“Pro-bono,” Douglas declared.

“I’m sorry?”

“ _Pro-bono_ ,” Douglas repeated, hands spread out before him.

“Oh! Yes, very good. Um… angina.”

Arthur’s eyes widened and he fought back the bubble of laughter that was tickling his throat. Martin shook his head, but smiled just slightly nonetheless.

While Arthur was trying desperately not to laugh, Carolyn joined the three of them in the cockpit.

“Douglas,” she said tersely, clearly annoyed, “take Martin’s hat. Mrs Knight wants to speak to the Captain.”

“But-” Martin started.

“I know, Martin,” Carolyn interrupted. “We _all_ know. We also all know what happened last time you wanted to prove yourself as Captain. First a passenger made you cry, then you were indirectly responsible for said passenger’s untimely death. Now we already have one dead person on board today, and we certainly don’t need another. So please give Douglas your hat.”

“Oh alright,” Martin grumped, but handed his hat to Douglas.

Wordlessly, Douglas strode off towards the cabin. Carolyn and a still grinning Arthur followed close behind.

*

“Douglas,” Arthur said, stopping the First Officer just as he was headed back to the flight deck.

“Yes Arthur?”

“I just had this feeling I was supposed to tell you something,” Arthur informed him.

“Really?” Douglas asked, feigning amazement.

“Yeah! Something that Martin told me. And it was to do with you!”

“I’m all ears.”

“Well, see, Martin likes you. I mean he _really_ likes you. He has feelings for you. I think they must be romantic feelings or it probably wouldn’t be a… oh,” Arthur stopped short, his face falling slightly.

“Secret?” Douglas hazarded, looking both quietly happy and genuinely amazed now.

“Oh no,” Arthur said, looking distressed. “You’re right. That was the secret.”

“Well,” said Douglas, “that’s certainly a surprise. But if that was the secret, then what was it you were actually supposed to tell me?”

“I… can’t remember,” Arthur tried.

“I see.”

“Martin likes wearing women’s clothes!” Arthur squeaked, cracking under the pressure of Douglas’ admittedly unthreatening gaze.

Douglas raised both eyebrows and smiled a smile of absolute mirth.

“Oh dear,” Arthur murmured. “I’d probably better be quiet for a bit now.” He receded to the kitchen, and Douglas, chuckling to himself, headed back to the cockpit.

Martin was waiting for him, looking rather unnerved. Douglas went for the gentle approach, handing Martin his Captain’s hat and bringing up the subject of their game.

“Any more words?” Douglas asked.

“What?” Martin flapped about, adjusting his hat on his head and avoiding Douglas’ gaze. “Oh,” he continued, “no. You?”

Douglas was about to reply, when they heard Carolyn call out, “Arthur! Cheese tray!”

“Look’s like the game’s up,” Douglas said. “How many do you have?”

“Ah, three, I think. You?”

“Two.”

“Looks like I win!” Martin declared triumphantly.

“Well done you,” said Douglas, feigned awe trickling through his vowels.

Arthur appeared with the cheese tray then. “Mum says to tell you ‘flange’, ‘turgid’ and ‘Volvo’, and that Martin loses again.”

“Damn!” Martin cried.

Arthur left them with the tray, and a silence broken only by the crinkling of wrappers being peeled off the cheeses. It was almost a full hour before either of them spoke again.

“Say, Martin?”

“Yes?”

“How about… food related classics?”

“For example?”

Douglas thought for a moment. “Oliver Twix.”

“Oh! I like that. Okay… Um… Oh, gosh, this is harder than it sounds. Uh… Flakes on a Plane?” Martin offered eventually.

“Ah yes, that classic piece of cinema.”

“Okay, no, how about Oreo of the Species?”

“Better. Not the best.”

“Well if you’re so clever…” Martin grumbled.

“I certainly am. Portrait of the Artist as a Young Flan.”

Despite himself, Martin chuckled. “That’s actually really very good. Oh! I’ve got one. Scone With The Wind.”

“Now that’s more like it.”

The new game kept them entertained for the next several hours, every ten or twenty minutes one of the two of them piping up with a new suggestion. By the time the long haul flight was at its end, Martin had managed to forget entirely about Douglas and his potential move to BudJet Airways. As they hit the runway at Sydney International, he threw in his last food related classic.

“Of Rice and Men.”

Douglas countered, “Pie Fidelity.”

And that was that. All out of ideas, and safely on the tarmac, Douglas suddenly brought Martin crashing back to reality.

“So, Carolyn offered me a pay rise,” he said.

“Uh, did she?” Martin replied, voice now a little shaky.

“She did indeed. And given how budget conscious Carolyn usually is, it begs the question, why would she do that?”

“That… that’s certainly a good question.”

“Funny though, that you would say that, when she told me that it was you who asked her to do it.”

Martin, clearly at a loss, said nothing. Douglas too, was silent. In the end, thinking back to what Arthur had advised, Martin said, “You can’t leave!”

“Why not?”

“You can’t leave because… because…”

“Yes, Martin?” Douglas asked, obviously enjoying watching Martin squirm about uncomfortably.

“Carolyn doesn’t want you to go!” Martin cried, words tumbling over each other in a sentence that grew steadily more uncertain as it rushed from start to finish.

“A statement that would have been infinitely more believable had I not already revealed that I know you told Carolyn to raise my salary.”

“Damn it,” Martin muttered.

“Come on then sport,” Douglas encouraged, “why can’t I leave?”

The cockpit went deathly silent and the nothingness echoed in Douglas’ ears for what was surely an eternity.

“You can’t leave because I…” Martin trailed finally, pink rising in his cheeks.

“ _Yes_?” Douglas pressed.

“I… Uh…” Martin stammered, growing more and more agitated as each awkward second passed.

“Whenever you’re ready… _Martin_ ,” Douglas said, emphasising Martin’s name in the same way he had in the past addressed him as ‘sir’. The tone in Douglas’ voice took Martin aback so suddenly that he blurted out the rest of his sentence without warning.

“Because I have feelings for you!” Instantly, his face went crimson, and he refused to meet Douglas’ eye.

Douglas, on the other hand, was unflustered, and took the sarcastic route in his response. “Oh, you do, do you?” he said. “Watch my eyebrows lift in surprise. See my jaw slacken with shock.”

“Yes, well… wait. What do you mean? You knew?” Martin was having no trouble looking at Douglas now, expression matching that which Douglas had just described.

“You could say that, yes,” Douglas said.

“You… knew?” Martin asked again, obviously having trouble grasping the fact.

Douglas simply smiled.

“What, I suppose now you’re planning on rubbing it in my face and making fun of me for the next year or something?” Martin said worriedly.

“I could do,” Douglas mused. “Or I could do this.”

That said, he unbuckled his seat belt, got up and walked over to Martin. Martin wriggled in his seat, trying to back away as Douglas approached. But Douglas placed one hand on each of Martin’s shoulders, pinning him to the seat back. Then he leaned down and kissed him fiercely. Martin froze, and his hands spasmed in his lap. Sensing Martin’s hesitance, Douglas pulled away.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Martin asked, flabbergasted.

“I believe it’s called ‘kissing’,” Douglas replied casually.

“That’s not what I meant, Douglas, and you know it. I meant _why_ are you doing it?”

“Ah, silly me,” Douglas intoned, sarcasm ever-present.

“Douglas!”

“I thought you might enjoy it.”

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then, “Oh,” Martin said simply. More silence followed. Eventually, cautiously, Martin continued. “You don’t think… maybe… Could you try it again?”

“That’s the spirit!” Douglas exclaimed. Smirking, he leaned down and kissed Martin once again, softer this time, more slowly. Martin, prepared for it now, opened up under Douglas’ touch, inviting and pliant. Douglas took full advantage of this, sliding one leg over Martin’s lap, straddling him, and removing Martin’s hat.

Fingers tangled in Martin’s hair. Lips parted and tongues delved, and Martin groaned into Douglas’ mouth. Douglas’ spare hand roved down to Martin’s seatbelt, and unbuckled it deftly. He was fingering the button on Martin’s trousers and tugging on the man’s hair when a sudden noise stopped them both in their tracks.

Douglas, smooth as ever, and Martin, looking ruffled and flushed, turned to the source of the sound. Arthur stood just inside the cockpit, positively beaming.

“Did you tell him then, Skip?” he asked innocently.

“What. Do you think?”

“Right,” Arthur chirped. “Brilliant! Have fun.” And he vanished from sight.

Douglas looked back down at Martin, who was pink with a mixture of arousal and embarrassment. “Now,” Douglas said calmly, “where were we?”


End file.
